


Cold Whispers

by disillusionist9



Series: Choose Dare [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Dark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Slash, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble #19 of 100 | The dementors only allow him his darkest memories. (Mind the tags)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Whispers

The first few months of incarceration were filled with screams of protest, pleas for freedom, and eventually the dead silence of another prisoner succumbing to the prison inside their head no one could free them from. The only noises remaining were the occasional whimper of pain or the dull thud of fists or foreheads striking cobblestone or iron bars.

Sirius could hear each sigh in the walls as the bitter wind of the North Sea clawed at every miniscule fissure it could find. For all the Ministry endeavored to make his and the others' lives as miserable as possible, every small glimmer of an escape plan was snuffed before it could begin, so even the wind couldn't reach the stale air in the maximum security cells. Some days he wondered if the vomit he smelled outside of his cage belonged to one of his cousins.

Death Eaters. Everyone on this floor was marked by him, their _Dark Lord_ , claimed in the most demeaning way imaginable. Willingly branded like mindless chattle.

Sirius ran a finger along his left forearm and not for the first time imagined what it would have been like to give into him. Remus didn't know how close he'd come, only James had the slightest idea. The offer of protection of his friends. Days, months, years of whispers in his ear appealing to his basest of nature. How pleased would Severus have been to learn his rival beat him to the throne and was closer to his Lord than he could ever dream?

Memories of warm fingers stroking his cheek clouded his consciousness to the point where he forgot about the flea-ridden mattress below him. Long and thin fingers moving in time with his voice like velvet and skin against his bare skin. His body thrummed in time with the strokes on his cheek as he leaned into that touch.

As the years passed, and his mind found it harder and harder to fight the pull of temptation, the hand caressing his bare skin grew colder. The feel of his skin reminded him of the still-cooling body of his Uncle Alphard after he'd died at St. Mungo's. Just a few minutes past the life leaving his bones, but still warm enough to fool someone into thinking they were just sleeping.

Warm breath on his ear and neck from behind transformed to cold and hissing whispers. The hands no longer brought pleasure but bit like frostbite after each touch. Bruises were the only physical memory of the last moments at his home in London before finally escaping the intrusion of body and mind by the man who fancied himself Lord Voldemort.

Remus didn't know, he just knew Sirius was much fiercer and demanding when they shared a giant four poster bed.

James knew, he always knew. It was James holding out his arms to catch him from the Floo when Sirius left Tom for the last time. He'd seen the bruises remaining from the spurned pseudo-lover's advanced. James bathed him, attempting to wash away the scum left on his soul from surrendering his body and almost his soul to the monster.

Sirius released a low keen of longing, a sound shattering the silence of Azkaban as thick as tempered steel.


End file.
